


Swan Song

by murkhinh



Category: LOVECRAFT H. P. - Works
Genre: Horror, Post-Apocalypse, Psychological Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-25
Updated: 2014-10-25
Packaged: 2018-02-22 12:39:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2508152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/murkhinh/pseuds/murkhinh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Its been almost a year now, since the end began. Three months ago the last of my crew dropped dead. I tried to contact other survivors. Sent out radio signal after signal. But it was no use. I was alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swan Song

**Author's Note:**

> My first stab at horror. Written for my Gr. 12 Creative Writing class. My take on the whole HP Lovecraft style 'horror'..

Its been almost a year now, since the end began. At the start, there were a few of us; scavenging, trying to survive, maybe even find others. But now… Jennifer… Alex... everyone… They're gone. Dropped dead about 3 months ago. I tried to contact other survivors. God knows I tried. Sent out radio signal after signal. But it was no use. Everyone was dead. I was alone.

It started with denial. I would not, could not stop. Frantically searching town after town until desperation and dehydration got the better of me and I collapsed. Blacked out, and had to stop. Stuck for days in ramshackle houses, with only my own company to sate me.

Then it was fear. Which, was the worst. The realization I was next. That it wouldn't be long now. I was going to die. Alone. My body would be left out in the sun, wearing away under the exposure. It would be devoured by wild, hungry animals. And soon, all that would be left would be a mass of torn, decaying flesh and bare bones. Hours would pass, with me shaking in a slump. Pleading to myself to just end it, take control and stop the torture. But in the end, my head would hang as I sobbed, my pistol lying, discarded, just feet away from me.

Acceptance would follow. That blank, numbing calm. I would slip into an almost comatose state. Moving from town to town, gathering what food I can. Simply going through the motions. Existing, but not really living.

This cycle would go on. Starting again day after day, week after week. This continued for God knows how long, and it ended here. In Gimli, Manitoba. Where I finally slipped. Fell. Went right off the deep end.

And there I sat. Staring, clawing aimlessly at the wooden floor beneath me. The bloody indentations spread over and away from where I was positioned and weaved together, forming images of these horrid, gruesome creatures birthed from my now horribly, twisted mind. My appearance mirrored these scratchings. Thin, sunken, and incredibly inhuman.

The only audible sound was an ominous crackling of thunder and lightening. I weakly pawed at the already massacred wooden panes. My hands thin, bloody, and torn. My fingernails imbedded into the morbid drawings, torn clean from their beds. My lids were heavy and my mind stirred.

Hallucinations haunted me, keeping me from the peace of sleep, and tormenting me in my waking hours.

-

I knew it was here when that sour, putrid stench filled my nostrils and caused me to heave violently. As I listened to it, that dragging, shuffling thud; I felt an overwhelming sense of calm. I stayed there, shaking, unable to move from my position. Watching frozen as it rises up from the ground. It's malevolence filling the room. My dark, bloodshot eyes raised and I saw it. In all its hideous glory. My dry, cracked lips creaked into a smile and I let out a soft, high, hysterical giggle. I sat up, now on my knees. My laughter died down, and my heavy lids fell closed.

I was filled with that sweet, numbing calm that haunted me mere months before and I knew. This was it. The ending I had been waiting for so long. Finally.

"Thank you." I whispered warmly, the darkness engulfing me.


End file.
